


A Bit More Finesse

by talkingtothesky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Root/Shaw mentioned, Season/Series 03, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold accidentally reveals his feelings for John. Shaw passes the message on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit More Finesse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mapal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapal/gifts).



> Title from 3x12 Aletheia, as this draws inspiration from Finch telling Shaw she's a hammer and Mr. Reese is a scalpel (who crashes big ass trucks into things, sure Finch).
> 
> Takes place maybe between 3x14 Provenance and 3x15 Last Call, because the OT3 vibe is particularly strong by then.

"So, Finch said a funny thing yesterday."

 

"Oh?" Reese's ears practically pricked up at the mention of the boss's name, as usual. God, they were disgustingly cute. Shaw'd accidentally joined a group of gay nerds.

 

She passed him the bore brush he was reaching for, dozens of gun parts spread out on the table between them.

 

"So, you know how he is, right? Or maybe you don't, you've been away for a while."

 

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. Shaw grit her teeth as Reese closed the hell down again, blank-faced, concentrating extra hard on refolding an oil rag.

 

She pressed on regardless. "Basically, he's still super wary of me, and lately he's been comparing everything I do to whatever he thinks you would do, even though we have pretty much the same methods."

 

"Not like you, not to get straight to the point, Shaw."

 

"Ok, so I snapped and told him to maybe stop pretending you were perfect and he said 'John _is_ perfect' and stormed off to make tea."

 

Reese's hands went still. "Maybe if you stopped playing games he'd trust you more."

 

"Playing games? You think I'm lying about this?"

 

"I had my earpiece switched on all day yesterday. Finch never shut it off."

 

And that was another thing. They listened to each other's breathing down the line 24/7, like that was normal. It drove Shaw nuts. "But you did go out of cell tower range for twenty minutes, when you were chasing that train. I suggested we stop it at the points instead of letting you tear your stitches sprinting after it, and that's when he went off on one about public safety and discretion."

 

Reese put a hand to his side. "I didn't tear my stitches," he noted, somewhat defensively.

 

"Good job, too. I'm getting bored of having to patch you up."

 

He finally looked her in the eyes. "Did I say 'thank you' yet?"

 

She waved him off. "You can thank me by talking to him. If this team thing is gonna work out in the long run, it has to stop being you-and-him and then me as an inferior backup. I took care of him while you were off having your breakdown but he needs you, Reese. Maybe once he knows he has you -" here Reese shuddered, and that implication was _gross_ "- he'll cut me some slack."

 

He smiled, a bit watery, but it was something. "He already likes you, Shaw. It just takes him a while to warm up to people. And Bear loves you. You're part of this team whether you realise it or not."

 

A feeling suspiciously like relief was trying to make itself known in Shaw's chest.

 

\---

 

Reese strode into the library next day with renewed purpose. He turned off Shaw's bugs and muted the computer feeds, ignoring Harold's squawk of protest. "We need to talk, Finch," he said, crouching by his chair.

 

"Mr. Reese?" Finch's eyebrows were climbing steadily higher.

 

"First of all, I want to apologize. I've treated you like crap lately and you didn't deserve it. I was just...angry. You were there for me and it was easy to lash out at you. Can you forgive me?"

 

Harold blinked. "There's nothing to forgive. You had a right to say those things, you were right."

 

John very carefully laid a hand on his arm. "That's your guilt talking. Objectively, you know it was unfair. You told me in Italy you were hurting just as much and that was...all I needed to hear, honestly." Reese could feel the lump in his throat returning at the memory, and rapidly blinked to clear it, focusing on Finch's very bright blue eyes. He looked faintly alarmed, but also moved, touched that John was saying all this. He lifted his right hand and placed it on top of John's, and that gave him the courage to continue.

 

"Secondly, I had a talk with Shaw yesterday."

 

Harold abruptly sighed, leaning back in his chair with frustration all over his face. "I was exceedingly rude to her. I'd like to make it up to her but I have a suspicion she'd throw it back in my face."

 

"She won't, you guys are great," Reese assured him, and Finch looked sceptical. "But she did want me to talk to you." He took a deep breath. "She seemed to think you might like me. As more than friends. Do you have feelings for me, Mr. Finch?" He said the last few words in a playful tone, because he couldn't do it any other way than lightly.

 

Finch's beautiful blue eyes darkened, and he suddenly looked furious. "This is humiliating," he said, yanking his arm out from under John's touch. "Why would she-?"

 

Realizing that Finch's paranoia had interpreted the situation entirely the wrong way, John leant up and kissed him. He pulled back after the briefest brush of lips, silently begging with his whole brain that he had done the right thing. _Please, Finch, please._ "I'm not having you on, I promise. This isn't a prank or a dare."

 

Harold's gaze was searching, penetrating. He'd always been able to look into John's soul. "John, you can't-" he began, sounding like he was in great pain, but then his fingers cupped the shell of John's ear and drew him in again, thumb digging into John's cheekbone. John forgot how to breathe as relief flooded him, eagerly slanting his lips against Harold's and leaning heavily against the arm of the chair, hoping its wheels wouldn't roll. Luckily Finch seemed to have his feet planted firmly on the floor and they weren't going anywhere, except maybe home to John's apartment. Quite soon.

 

\---

 

Shaw noticed Finch was mellower in the weeks to come, less snappish and more...creative in his approach to problem-solving. He considered the merit in Shaw's suggestions and pointed out the flaws in John's, and they worked more smoothly as a group of three than they ever had before. She still reserved the right to wander off on her own when she felt like it, and Finch didn't begrudge her that, presumably because his downtime was occupied by something other than work for once.

 

She was kind of embarrassed at having had to play matchmaker, but Shaw quickly forgot that as another new team member with gorgeous long brown hair began flirting in earnest with _her_.


End file.
